No Good Deed
by Ingram Solomon
Summary: AU:Set in the 1600's. Draco, a reclusive wizard, rescues a young witch from burning at the stake, inciting a life debt. The mystery girl is rude, pushy, arrogant & absolutely terrified of being sent back. Draco is desperate to know why...
1. Chapter 1

No Good Deed

No good deed goes unpunished. It is a common muggle saying, and despite their inferiority in nearly everything, in this at least, they have proved themselves correct.

I still remember the way her hair bushed out as they pulled the rucksack off her head. Her hands were bound with rope, the bodice of her dress was ripped, and her cheek was sporting the purplish after affects of a nasty backhand.

I watched from the window of my black carriage as they marched her up onto the wooden platform. The muggles were out in full force, leaving no cliché untouched. Pitch forks were hoisting, torches burning, recently dusted off bibles raising. Even the village drunk had his silver cross displayed for all to see. The crowd was murderous. If I didn't step out now, she would be dead with in the hour.

Their chanting was deafening. It could be heard all the way up the mountain.

"BURN THE WITCH!" They shouted in unison.

I sighed, pulling on the cuffs of my leather gloves. Hoisting my silver handled cane, I knocked on the roof of my carriage twice. At once the footman swung wide the door for me. Stepping out, I straightened my collar so it was clearly visible. It was my salvation after all. Walking forward, the people at the back of the crowd saw me first, and I watched their attention flow up the body as slowly all became silent at my presence. They parted for me like the waters of the red sea, and a straight path lay before me right up to the platform where the accused young woman had been forced to her knees.

Next to her stood the villages' Overlord, Winston Thigpen, a pear shaped man with a penchant for liquor and lascivious women. Throughout the village he was considered a respected man, but dark deeds go unnoticed by brainless lemmings. I always made a point to pay attention to the herd of muggles at the base of my mountain.

"Father Malfoy," he greeted me, a tremor of fear in his voice. The corner of my mouth nearly tipped into a smirk. I knew he feared me. He thought me a holy man, and a seed as wicked as he aught to fear a presumed priest. If he only really knew what I was, what I could do.

He'd call me the damn devil.

I nodded to him as I made my way slowly up the steps of the wooden stage. They had already constructed a make shift stake, and stacked logs and twigs at its base.

"Surely Lord Thigpen, you were not about to commence a sentencing with out me?" I let my eyes grow dark as I held his gaze.

"I saw no reason to wake you Father, as the accused was caught in the act of witchcraft by no less than four eye witnesses. Only two are required by law in order to expedite a trial."

"And a thorough interrogation of both the accused and the so called witnesses has been conducted?" I asked doubtfully.

"Of course Father."

"May I see the manifest then?"

"The manifest? Oh… well, as this instance was so clearly an open and shut case, we opted not to waste the parchment and ink."

"So am I to understand that this child was to be burned at the stake without a proper log of the proceedings?"

Winston Thigpen swallowed, and then opened his mouth. It hung ajar for several moments as he searched for an answer.

"I see." I let the disappointment in my tone wash over all of them. Guilt was by far my most effective weapon against them.

"But Father," Thigpen protested, "We found her with this!" He held up a thin carved stick.

I always prided myself with my ability to mask my initial reactions, but when Thigpen held up an honest to goodness wooden wand, it took everything with in me to keep my eyes from exploding from my head. I glanced quickly from the wand, down to the witch.

So they had finally caught a realone.

Merlin help us, either they were getting smarter, or we were getting more careless. I had half a mind to let them murder her for her sheer stupidity at being caught. I watched Thigpen palm the wand in a carelessly. Without thinking I snatched the wand from his grasp. His dirty and inferior muggle hands had no right to touch that instrument.

"Does your idiocy know no bounds!" I bellowed at him, my shock disguised as anger. "This, you fool, is a stick. Regardless, you failed to follow very simple protocol, and therefore the law of this land! This does not bode well for you! Release the child at once and escort her to my carriage."

"But Father, she is a convicted witch!"

"Who has had a mistrial! You have forced my hand with your complete ineptitude! I have no choice but to conduct an interrogation myself, and if I find it necessary, will carry out her sentence. Now escort her to my carriage _at once_!"

Thigpen was shocked and angry, but he nodded to his man to do as told.

"And if you find her to be guilty?" He asked, his eyes swept over the girl greedy with lust… blood or otherwise I couldn't say. The crowd was silent, all holding their breath to hear my answer.

"Then I shall do as the Lord wills. There is no mercy for those in court with satan." This seemed to suffice, if only for the moment. People were already starting to make their way home, the square emptying as they passed into the side streets and alleys. The air was thick with disappointment.

I approached my carriage. The girl was eyeing me as she was tethered to the handrail of the driver's bench. She couldn't be older than nineteen. Both my driver and the footman seemed very put out at having to share their space with a presumed devil's child, and shared a look of trepidation. Both were stupid muggles that I had hired a few years prior, Brutie and Milo. They were dolts who didn't question things, and preformed their position with a modicum of decorum. What more could I really ask for. I noticed that both of them were avoiding eye contact with her. Fools. They assumed that she could cast spells on them by simply staring into their eyes. Without the little ten-inch stick of vine wood, she was fairly harmless, and that was currently tucked securely in the back pocket of my trousers.

I stepped into the carriage, and we were off, headed up the winding mountain path. It was a chilly evening in early October, and I knew she had to be freezing outside the carriage, but I didn't dare put her in the cab with me. Muggles are suspicious creatures by nature. I have learned through the years that if I am to have a peaceful coexistence with them, I am constantly required to avoid unexpected reactions.

The cold air would be good for her. Give her some time to think about what could have happened as a result of her incredible carelessness. As the tiresome trek back up the mountain wore on, my curiosity began to best me. By the time I saw the lamplights on the carriage house next to the massive wrought iron gate, it was nearly insatiable.

Just who the hell was she! As far as I knew this area had always been heavily populated by muggles. The nearest wizarding town was at least a two weeks journey away. There was never any reason for them to travel into these parts of the countryside. Most simply apparated into the boundaries of any wizarding destination they wanted.

We pulled to a stop in front of the carriage house. I know Brutie and Milo thought it odd that the carriage house was outside the perimeter of the gate, and further more that they were never once permitted inside the looming iron gates, but thankfully they never questioned it. At least never to me. From the gate the view up the mountain showed a pristine and neatly kept old abbey. Quite the rouse. It was nothing more than an illusion, a simple charm I concocted to hide the sprawling mansion that actually lay just beyond the gate.

"D'ya need any 'elp getting the lass up to the abbey, Father?" Brutie asked as he opened the door.

"I can manage." I replied. I walked around the horses to see Milo slipping a noose around the girl's neck. As he tightened the knot up to her throat, her bushy hair was momentarily tamed. "Is that really necessary?" I asked.

"Can't be taking any chances, Father." Milo warned, handing the rope out to me like a leash.

"Goodnight then." I replied, turning my attention to the girl. "Follow me." I turned and started towards the gate, I half expected the slack in the rope to snap, but to my surprise, she followed obediently.

I placed my hand on the gate, and the ancient magic shuddered through me. Recognizing the house's master it creaked open. As I stepped over the threshold I could feel the magic of the many charms and wards wash over me. I turned to watch the girl.

The second she stepped through, her eyes snapped to mine. She felt them too, and recognized them at once. Her mouth dropped open as if she was going to speak, but she must have thought better of it and closed her mouth as she saw the mansion. I stared her down for a moment before turning on my heel and making my way up the path. The gravel crunched under our feet as we walked. Finally I spoke,

"So you're a witch."

"So you're a wizard." She tartly replied. Her voice was a soft lilting soprano with an air of haughtiness to it. I stopped and faced her.

"What is your name?" She looked up at me defiantly and held her silence. "You know I can make you tell me." My threat did little to bristle her compliance. Just then the front door of the house opened as Tilly and Payley, my house elves squeaked in unison,

"Master!" I turned and walked into the house, flanked by the witch.

"Can I take your coat Master?" Tilly's tiny voice asked.

"Shall I get you some tea Master?" Payley asked.

"Would you like the fire in drawing room lit"

"Would you like anything to eat?"

"Shall I prepare a guestroom?"

"Is Master tired?"

"Stop." I barked. "Light the fire, tea is fine, you're dismissed." They both shut their tiny mouths, looked up at me with their big eyes, and disapparated on the spot with a crack. I dropped her leash to remove my over coat and flung it across the chair in the entry. I pulled off my gloves and hat and dropped them on top of it. "This way." I nodded towards the French doors off the left of the massive entry hall.

Walking into the drawing room, I noticed that not only was the fire lit, but several candelabras as well, and a steaming pot of tea was sitting next to my armchair by the fire. The girl took a few steps in and stopped. I pulled my wand from its sheath, and with a flick the doors closed and locked behind her. She jumped at the noise.

"Sit down." It wasn't a request. I happened to glance in the large mirror hanging over the fireplace and frowned at my reflection. A salt and pepper beard and a face full of wrinkles stared back at me. I had momentarily forgotten I'd transfigured my appearance. The village below would hardly take a nineteen year old priest seriously. With a wave of my wand the grey hair turned back into its natural blonde, my skin smoothed back to its youthful flawlessness, and the beard disappeared completely. I ran my hand across my smooth jaw, and turned to take in the look of shock on the young witches face. Pulling the white strip from my collar I tossed it on top of the mantel.

"Who are you?" She finally spoke.

"You first." I replied.

"Give me my wand."

"No."

"What do you want?" She glared at me.

"An explanation." I matched her icy expression

"An explanation of what!" She spat. I turned to face her, my eyes on fire.

"I want an explanation of who you are and what they hell you're doing near my mountain. How is it possible that you got yourself so carelessly caught by easily the dumbest herd of muggles in existence? Do you even realize what I risked by rescuing you? The questions I'm going to have to answer, and the consequences I'll have to face all because of your moronic actions?" I crossed the room towards her. She made to back away from my advance, but her back hit the locked doors.

"I didn't ask you to step in. I was handling it." She hissed. This angered me to no end.

"The hell you were. You'd be dead right now if it wasn't for me and you know it, you ungrateful little wretch." Just who the hell did she think she was?

"How dare you! Give me my wand this instant!" She screeched. I closed the gap between us, and slammed my fist on the door next to her head.

"I'm not giving you a damn thing until you answer my questions!" Behind her defiant stance, I saw a flicker of fear cross her eyes. As if to deny it, she glared at me and said,

"I'm not afraid of you." This girl was positively infuriating. I leaned in close to her ear,

"Well you should be, love. You're in my debt now." I said softly with a deadly smirk on my face. I turned back towards the fire, but not before seeing the look of pure dread cross her features as awareness washed over her.


	2. Chapter 2

Previously:

"I'm not afraid of you." This girl was positively infuriating. I leaned in close to her ear,

"Well you should be, love. You're in my debt now." I said softly with a deadly smirk on my face. I turned back towards the fire, but not before seeing the look of pure dread cross her features as awareness washed over her.

CHAPTER TWO:

I let my words sink in as I crossed the room to the cabinet along the wall. Ignoring the tea, I opened the cupboard door and pulled down a crystal tumbler and a bottle of the best goblin whiskey my massive fortune could buy. Pouring a glass, I took a long hard swig, and let the acrid amber liquid slide down my throat and warm my stomach. Beautiful.

She was still standing against the door, more leaning, her mouth slightly open and her brow furrowed in concentration as she mulled over what I had said. I couldn't really blame her for her reaction. I wouldn't want to owe me a life debt either. How do you repay a favor to the guy who has everything, and needs nothing? I waited patiently for her angry outburst. Surely it was coming.

But to my complete shock and horror, instead of spouting out a string of nasty curse words at me, the peculiar girl covered her face with her hands and began to cry. Her shoulders shook as she made the most pitiful noises while she sobbed. Sliding along the door, she slumped down until she was sitting on the floor.

Damnit.

I walked back over to her slowly, cautiously. When I reached her, she seemed oblivious of my presence. I considered tapping her with the toe of my boot to get her attention, but thought better of it. I was at a loss for how to proceed. Without any sisters and a mother long dead, I hadn't had much in the way of female interaction in the last three years, and was clueless as to how to get her to stop. I tried the obvious,

"Hey." I cleared my throat, "Stop."

This just made her sob harder. Pulling her hands from her face, I only caught a glimpse of her tear streaked cheeks, before she pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her hands in her crossed arms.

I sighed loudly in annoyance, and paced back and forth in front of her for a few minuets. When her crying failed to subside, I did the only thing I could think of.

Bending down, I scooped her up awkwardly. This broke her trance as at once her eyes went wide, and she immediately started fighting my grip on her. Luckily I had her in a good hold cradled against my chest. She was so small, and I was considerably stronger. She must have realized this and stopped squirming.

"Put me down." Her voice came out small, almost defeated. I deposited her gently on the settee across from the fire, and handed her my tumbler.

"Drink this." She eyed it skeptically, but took it from my hand. Letting out a ragged breath, she attempted to reign in her emotions. I suppose she did have a bit of a trying day.

I crossed back to the cabinet and poured myself a new glass, then took a seat in the wingback chair near her spot on the settee. She avoided my gaze, and stared at the fire.

"What's your story?" I asked softly, hoping my placating tone would persuade her to talk.

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you." She said sadly.

"Fine," it came out as a frustrated sigh, "Make it up, at least give me a name, yours or otherwise." I replied, trying to keep my extreme annoyance out of my voice.

"Hermione."

"Pardon?"

"Hermione."

"That's quite the made up name." I smirked.

"That's my real name!" A flash of hurt crossed her eyes.

"Oh. Um… it's pretty." I was lying and she knew it. Who the hell names their kid Hermione? "How did you get caught?"

She sighed, and finally took a sip of the whiskey. "I was traveling through, following the creek and I came across a little muggle boy playing in a tree. I decided to leave the path so I wouldn't be seen, but before I got far I heard the snap of a branch breaking, and the little boy fall. He screamed, and I don't know… I… I just took off towards him. He was crying uncontrollably, and when I reached him, I saw that his arm was broken. I looked around and didn't see anyone, so… I don't know what I was thinking… I just took out my wand and healed it. He was still crying from shock, and out of no where his family was suddenly there, and his mother scooped him up and asked him what happened, and he pointed at me and called me a witch. The next thing I know, his dad hit me on the back of my head with his shovel, and I woke up tied to a bench in Thigpen's interrogation room."

"Did he hurt you?" I asked, surprised by my tone. I suddenly hated Thigpen.

"Nothing too bad." She said meekly.

"Did you tell them anything?"

"No."

"Where did you come from?"

"I can't answer that."

"Then where are you going?" She made a small shake of her head. I sighed in frustration.

"What can you tell me?" The annoyance in my voice was evident.

"Not much…. I'm sorry… it's just that…I…" Her voice trailed off.

"You ran away?" I guessed. Her eyes shot to mine and she swallowed hard, but made no answer. "I see."

"Look, you seem like a… reasonable… person," she struggled over the word, "Please may I have my wand, and I'll leave this area as discreetly as humanly possible, and you'll never have to see me again." Her voice was desperate.

"No, I'm afraid not." I replied taking another sip from my tumbler. "You've caused me a bit of a… situation… with my cover with the local muggles. Until I figure out what to do about it, I need you to stay here." Suddenly the fire was back in her eyes,

"You can't make me stay here!" She spat.

"Can't I?" I challenged smoothly. "Tilly?" I called out. A pop resounded in the room, and Tilly stood before me. "Prepare one of the guestrooms, Hermione will be staying with us."

"Right away master." Tilly squeaked, "This just arrived by owl for you Master." Tilly produced a small silver platter with a worn envelope a top it. I picked it up, and with a pop, Tilly was gone. I looked at the envelope, in scrolling script it was addressed to:

Resident.

Well, I suppose that's me. I pocketed the letter in my vest and turned to the now fuming Hermione…

"Do you have a last name?"

"No." She spat. I rubbed my temple. Good gods she was maddening.

"Fine. Tilly will be back to escort you to your room," I got up, placing my tumbler on the table next to the chair.

"Wait," Hermione protested, "Please give me my wand." It was a genuine request. I sighed in exasperation.

"Hermione, I give you my word, I will give you back your wand. But not tonight. Go get some rest, you look like hell. Tilly can give you a balm for your cheek, and draw you a bath if you'd like. She can get you anything else you might need, just ask her."

It had to be nearly morning. With this realization, exhaustion washed over me. I walked towards the door.

"Wait!" She called after me. What now! I turned back to look at her. Her shoulders were slumped in defeat, and she suddenly looked, dare I say it, docile. "What should I call you?"

"Everyone else here calls me Master." I smirked. She glared at me. "Draco Malfoy is my name," For some reason I expected her to be impressed, but she didn't seem to recognize it. I suppose that was all well and good. That was, after all the point of my self imposed exile to this forgotten muggle wasteland. "You may call me Draco." And with that, I left the room for my bed.

X-X-X-X

Late that morning, I awoke just before noon. I was sprawled out across my bed on top of the covers with my clothes still on. Something was poking me in my chest, so I rolled over to my back and ran my hand across it. The corner of the envelope from the night before was the culprit. Pulling it out, I opened it. I had to squint a few times to get my groggy eyes to focus, and once they did my jaw dropped open.

There at the top of the letter was a drawing of a girl who looked exactly like my new dear house guest. I sat straight up, and walked to the window. Pulling open the heavy velvet green curtains, light flooded the room, and I read the caption underneath:

_Wanted: Muggleborn Witch Hermione Granger._

I read further,

_Have you seen this witch? This mailer has reached you as it is our assumption that this convict has been or will be traveling through your area in the near future. Keep your eyes posted and notify your local ministry representative to any suspicious activity. If the convict is spotted, do not approach. Notify your ministry representative at once. She is considered highly dangerous. _

Highly dangerous? Really? This is the girl that was caught by imbecile muggles after all. I scanned the picture again, the likeness was true, though she did appear almost pretty in the picture devoid of a purple bruise, dirt, and with tamed hair pulled back. She looked, dare I think it, sweet? Too bad her personality didn't match her appearance.

So she was a muggleborn.

I changed my clothes quickly and called for Tilly. With a pop, the house elf entered and set to work straightening the bedspread and pillows.

"Tilly, Where is Hermione?"

"She's in the library Master," Tilly replied.

"Very good," I left my room and headed down the main marble staircase into the entry hall. I headed into the drawing room towards the back, and pushed the hidden lever on the book shelf, it slid open revealing a small passageway. In a house this large little shortcuts were the quickest way to get around. Walking down the tiny hallway, I opened the door at the end a crack and peered through.

The library was three stories tall and the walls were covered in ornate mahogany bookcases. Mahogany spiral stair cases took you up two levels to little plank ways to reach the highest books. The only expanse in the room that was not covered by books was a massive leaded glass window that stretched nearly from floor to ceiling. Rich burgundy drapes hung down its length, and it was upon the wide cushioned window ledge that I spotted Hermione curled up with a book in her lap.

She looked so peaceful, I almost didn't bother her. Almost.

Pushing open the door noisily I drew her attention. She suddenly looked guilty, and closed the book, placing it beside her on the ledge.

"Good morning." I called out as I made may way towards her.

"Good morning." She replied politely. As I neared her, I noticed that the bruise on her cheek was no longer noticeable, and her face and hair was clean. She had it pinned back into a curly chignon at the base of her neck. It exposed the delicate curve of her jaw line and graceful neck. With the sunlight pouring in around her, she really was quite beautiful.. "Is it alright that I'm in here?" She asked, her mild embarrassment at not having asked permission evident. So she did have some manners.

"Of course, it's fine." I dismissed her worry, and took in the pale blue satin gown she wore. Tilly always did love to sew. She saw me admiring it and said,

"Thank you for the dress, it's… lovely." She sighed on the word, looking down at it, she smoothed her hand over the fabric affectionately. Being a muggleborn, she likely never had clothes made of silk.

"I'm sure Tilly started on it the moment she saw you." I smirked, "Since my mother died she hasn't had any reason to make dresses unfortunately. I had forgotten how much she loves it. She probably measured you in your sleep." This caused her to frown momentarily.

"She's very skilled, the detail in the stitching is amazing, and I'm certain this is handmade lace." She ran her fingers over the short lace along the bust of the dress. My eye was drawn there at once. The dress was low cut by prude puritanical muggle standards, but by no means scandalous. Never the less the tight bodice pushed up her small breasts slightly, granting me an innocent but intoxicatingly lovely view. My mouth went dry as my cheeks grew warm. I dropped my gaze to the floor at once. "I'm sorry about your mother, has it been long?" Her voice was so kind I looked to see if it really belonged to her. Her eyes were equally warm and kind.

"Four years. My father died the year after." It had been suicide. All growing up he was always saying to my mother, 'How could I live with out you?' Turns out, he couldn't.

"I'm so sorry. Do you live here alone?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the house.

"Yup." I replied. "I have no other family. At least none that I'm in contact with. We use to live near muggle London, but after they died I moved here with the house elves. This used to be my family's hunting estate." I left out the detail that my ancestors' prey of choice had been muggles. They were so tacky.

"My family is dead too." She offered. This didn't surprise me. It was common for our kind to kill the creators of the rare anomaly that was muggleborns. She stood up, straitening the gown.

"Have you eaten?" I asked. She made a simple nod. Just then the main door to the library creaked open, and Payley poked his disproportionately large head around.

"Master there are two gentlemen waiting at the gate to speak with you."

"Muggle or wizard?"

"Wizards, Master." Payley squeaked. Three wizards at my house at once? How popular I'm getting.

"Did Brutie and Milo see them?"

"No Master, they're out hunting."

"Good see them into the drawing room quickly. Get them tea, I'll be there shortly." Payley nodded and was gone. I looked back to Hermione. Her eyes were wide with fear.

"Where you expecting anyone?" She tried to sound casual.

"No." I studied her reaction. She was clearly terrified. It was unlikely this unannounced visit was not related to her. "Stay here." She nodded and sat back down on the ledge.

X-X-X-X

I took the long way back to the drawing room. Pausing outside the door I could hear the two men speaking to each other. The first voice was high pitched, nasally and refined, clearly an educated man,

"Mr. Gaunt, do stop pacing and sit down." It chastised. The second voice was a polar opposite to the first. It was low, feral, and angry.

"Sit down! Ow' can ye ask me to sit down at a time like this! I know she's here, the little wench." He growled, "This ring 'o mine wouldn't-a-be glowing blue if she weren't, now would'it?" He barked. "Would it!" He demanded.

"No, I dare say, I suppose not. We will get to the bottom of this, now sit down."

"She was promised to me. ME. And I'll be damned if I let anyone get in the way of what's coming to me. She's suppose to be my bloody wife, an I 'ave half a mind to rip this whole damn house to bits to find 'er."

Well…shit.

(To be cont.)


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I made this an alternate reality story just so I could have more freedom with everything, especially Draco's character. I've made him a bit kinder and more open minded than I feel cannon Draco is but maintained a few of his character traits. Hope you enjoy, thanks!

Previously:

"She was promised to me. ME. And I'll be damned if I let anyone get in the way of what's coming to me. She's suppose to be my bloody wife, an I 'ave half a mind to rip this whole damn house to bits to find 'er."

Chapter Three:

I stood outside the door fuming.

Just who the hell did this guy think he was! Coming to MY home, trespassing on MY hospitality, talking about destroying MY house to get to MY debtor.

Did he just say, _wife_! I had had enough of eavesdropping, my questions were going to be answered now. I threw the door open loudly,

"Gentlemen." I stated coldly, "To what do I owe this immense intrusion?"

"Intrusion!" The one called Gaunt bellowed, "You son of a bitch! Where's my wife!"

"Mr. Gaunt! Please!" The nasal voice reprimanded. It belonged to an impossibly thin man with a hook nose, elegant dress, and distinct anxious twitchiness. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was a ministry official, one of the few I wasn't acquainted with. "Allow me to introduce myself, Lord Malfoy, I am Hildegard Winston, Chief Inquisitor of Muggleborn Penality. I apologize for the unannounced visit, but we have reason to believe that a fugitive muggleborn by the name of Hermione Granger has recently been in this area, and… excuse my bluntness, but is in this very home."

"She bloody well is in this house! Bring her here now, or so help me…"

"Mr. GAUNT! Please do be quiet!" Mr. Winston screeched, rubbing his temple. This silenced the seething man momentarily.

"Well, Mr. Winston, it just so happens, I rescued a young runaway witch from the local muggles last night. They were about to burn her at the stake, and I stepped in."

"I see," Mr. Winston scratched his chin, "And pray tell, is the girl still here?"

"You seem to already know the answer to the question." I replied icyly. "What is it exactly that the girl is accused of?" I asked. Mr. Winston drew in a long slow breath and gave a weary side glance to the massive brute that was Mr. Gaunt before replying,

"Well, Lord Malfoy, Hermione is a muggleborn witch. We were able to locate and terminate her originators and take Hermione into the muggleborn indentured system at the age of eleven after her magical abilities were pronounced enough to tip off our seeking charms. As you know, once the female muggleborns reach the age of seventeen, they become eligible for compulsory legitimization."

Compulsory legitimization? More like forced sexslave. Young female muggleborn slaves were given the wondrous opportunity to become "legitimized" by being forced to marry pureblood wizards who had fallen on hard times. Without money, no self respecting pureblood witch would bother with the male scourge of the wizarding world. They had little choice but to apply for the muggleborn lottery which randomly ensured them a wife. Those such as the inbreed and poor mannered Mr. Gaunt were always first in line. He was an older gentlemen, at least in his forties. Likely he had been through a few wives before. Muggleborn wives were always treated atrociously, often beaten to death for "not minding", only to be replaced by a new one at the next drawing. Everyone just turned a blind eye to this bleak and detestable bane in our society. The matches were mandatory, and if a muggleborn witch refused to marry, she was executed. Every now and then a muggleborn would get free and escape her sentence. That must have been what Hermione had done.

She was not a criminal. Despite my parents' attempts to indoctrinate me, I always felt that it wasn't a crime to be born with bad blood. One could not help the world they were born into. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. That wretched girl had been promised to this disgusting creature.

I surveyed Mr. Gaunt with a serious eye. He was a hideous man to be sure. It was as though his face had been carved with a hatchet, and then flattened with a blow from a frying pan. One eye drooped more than the other giving his face a distinct off kilter appearance. His brow was large, and covered in untamed eyebrows that threatened to unite at the apex of his unsightly nose. It was obvious by his language that he was an uneducated man of the working class, and his dress did little to dissuade this opinion. Burlap trousers and a grimy linen tunic made me fear for my furniture, lest he finally sit down and soil them with his filth.

Good gods, that poor girl. She was strong willed to the point of sever rudeness, but even she didn't deserve such a fate as being the wife of Mr. Gaunt. My father had taught me a considerable amount about wizarding law and my mind raced through my knowledge of muggleborn legislature in search of some kind of loop hole. Mr. Winston Continued,

"Needless to say, the muggleborn promised to Mr. Gaunt was Hermione Granger. Prior to the binding ceremony she went missing, and it is our assumption that the muggleborn somehow escaped, and has thus become an _unlawful_."

"What will happen to her?"

"Well, once back in the custody of the ministry the binding ceremony will commence, and then it is within Mr. Gaunt's jurisdiction to decide an appropriate punishment for the girl, as she will then be his wife." I nodded slowly trying to disguise my disgust. "Now if you would you please send for the girl?" My mouth went dry. I nodded slowly.

"Payley?" With a pop the little house elf stood before me, "Please bring Hermione here." I noticed Payley swallow slowly and cast a sideways glance to the cabinet concealing the hidden pathway.

I had forgotten to shut the library opening, and this was Payley's way of notifying me that she was standing behind the cabinet listening in. In general house elves are dirty, irritating, dim witted creatures, but as providence would have it, my house elves were a true tribute to their species. Never were there more intelligent, observant, and fiercely loyal house elves than my Tilly and Payley. Their ability to anticipate my wishes was truly incredible. I shared a knowing look with him, one we had shared many a time in awkward situations such as these. "Very well, you're dismissed."

I took a deep breath and quietly walked over to the cabinet. Flicking the lever, the door slid open suddenly, and a blur of blue silk and lace fell into my arms. I righted her quickly, and closed the door behind her.

Her eyes were wide with fear and she was trembling. Guilt is not a common emotion for a Malfoy, but never the less, in that moment I felt it acutely.

"Oh, very good, here you are Miss Granger." Mr. Winston's nasally tone sounded delighted. Before I knew what was happening, Mr. Gaunt caught me off guard and threw me aside. In a flash he grabbed Hermione buy her neck and pinned her against the cabinet, raising her up so that her toes were barely scraping the ground.

'You filthy little Mudblood Whore, How DARE you run out on me!" Gaunt bellowed, his face turning red, as Hermione attempted to claw at his hand.

"Mr. Gaunt! Put her down this instant!" Mr. Winston Screeched. Without thinking, I reached for my wand and a jet of scarlet light ejected its tip the same time I yelled 'Stupefy'. It hit Gaunt with such force that both he and Hermione went flying across the room. They landed on the hard marble floor and Gaunt was instantly unconscious. It took a second for Hermione to get her bearings, but in a moment she was scrambling away from him backwards on her hands until her back hit the wall.

"Good gods Lord Malfoy! What have you done?" Mr. Winston's octave was nearly piercing in its shrillness. He swept over to the unconscious form of Mr. Gaunt and felt for a pulse.

"He'll be fine." I replied coldly while motioning to Hermione to get away from the pair while Winston's back was to me. She complied at once, standing on shaky legs and moving to my side. Mr. Winston pulled out his own wand and cast a rennervate counter-spell. Mr. Gaunt slowly came to, his hand moving to his temple as he tried to sit up.

What the hell was I thinking attacking this man! He was perfectly with in his rights to act as he had. She technically belonged to that pathetic excuse for a pureblood wizard ater all. I had no right to challenge his authority or actions. It's not as though I have any sort of claim…

And then it hit me! An instantaneous inkling. It was an incredible gamble, but somehow, I knew, I just knew. By voicing it aloud in front of witnesses it would be solidified.

While the two men were still otherwise occupied on the ground, I leaned in towards Hermione, sought out her cinnamon eyes and whispered,

"Trust me." Only a flicker of hope registered as she made a simple nod.

"He just attacked me, he did! You seen it, didn't ya," Gaunt yelled, pointing at me like a petulant child. Mr. Winston stood, ignoring the big idiot on the floor,

"Lord Malfoy, I must request that you explain yourself!" His words were civil, but his tone quite angry.

"As I am sure you are aware Mr. Winston, in the ancient Decretum Vita Debitum, Clause 95 specifically allows an Erus the right to protect his Accipio from bodily harm until the Venia has been fulfilled."

"What are you talking about?" Mr. Winston's brows furrowed in as he tried to understand, "That's regarding life debts… I hardly see how that pertains…" His voice died away as he suddenly understood. "How did you say you happened across Miss Granger?" He asked quietly, already knowing the conclusion.

"She was about to be burned at the stake, and I tricked the muggles into letting her go." I tried not to let my smugness sound in my voice, but it leaked through anyway.

"Oh good heavens," Mr. Winston sighed in exasperation, his hand flying to his temple.

"What! What the hell does that matter?" Gaunt looked back and forth between myself and Mr. Winston as he got up.

"It means Mr. Gaunt, that Hermione owes Lord Malfoy a Vita Debitum. In layman terms, an all binding and absolute _life debt_." He threw his hands up in exasperation, "It means Sir, that until her debt is repaid, she belongs wholly to the intervener or Erus."

"Says who! Gaunt bellowed.

"Says very ancient and humbling magic!" Mr. Winston yelled. "It is one of our world's most powerful forms of magic."

"Well undo it!" Gaunt spit at him.

"Did you not hear what I just said! Magic that absolute can never be undone! I'm afraid until the Venia is completed, Miss Granger will remain with Lord Malfoy."

"The hell she will!" Mr. Gaunt went to grab Hermione's arm but before his hand reached her a blue shield charm slapped his hand away. This time, the wand lowered belonged to Mr. Winston.

Mr. Gaunt turned on him. "How dare you!"

"You mustn't try to remove a Accipio from an Erus!" Mr. Winston shouted, "You have no idea the severity of tampering with this sort of magic Mr. Gaunt." His tone was serious, "Mr. Malfoy, I must send word to the Department of Magical Mysteries at once. I dare say, they'll want to make a formal inquiry into the matter."

"I understand," I nodded to the door, "My study is across the hall, you'll find parchment and ink upon the desk. You may use one of my owls."

Mr. Winston headed towards the door, muttering to himself. Once the door closed behind him, I glared at Gaunt, I could feel my familiar Malfoy sneer grace my features as I looked him over.

"Quit looking at me like I'm rubbish not fit to lick your boot! I'm pureblood same as you, Lord High and Mighty! Descendent of the Great Salazar Slytherin, I is! What you 'ave to say about that!" He spat. "What do you 'ave to show for your lineage?"

"Well, Mr. Gaunt, you have me there." I replied in a bored manner, "It's true, we have no one in our lineage as prolific as Salazar Slytherin." I flicked a bit of lint off my sleeve, "I suppose all we have to show for our name is… well… this sprawling mansion estate, four more just like it, control of the Trade Coalition and enough gold in Gringotts to pay to dig up Salazar's body just so I could piss on it."

Mr. Gaunt's face passed from red to purple and then to an eerie shade of white. He was completely enraged.

"I may not have much in the way of money, but you better believe I've got me some influential acquaintances. You won't get away with this!" He bellowed, then turning to Hermione, "Don't ye get too comfortable you Mudblood Bitch, you're going to get what's coming to you, and I'm gonna enjoy giving it." His leer confirmed his intentions. "Now listen here, you'll regret the day you crossed Lugo Castor Gaunt!"

"No YOU listen you sack of shit! You may think your friends are influential but you'll come to find that no one is beyond my reach! I own everything! The Malfoy name may have lain dormant for the last few years but it is no less lethal than the day I left London. You think you have friends in the Ministry? Half the Wizengamot is in debt to me! I control them! You think you have allies in Knockturn Alley? That damn street is paved with Malfoy gold and every shopkeeper on it is in my pocket! I'm on the governing board at Gringotts, I own the Trade coalition, and I have informants everywhere! You can't so much as blink with out me knowing about it! There is no crevice on this forsaken earth that extends beyond my grasp. Your name doesn't mean shit to me, you pathetic inbred cretin. I suggest you waddle back to the disgusting pig hovel you call home before I loose my patience. Now get off my property!"

With a flick of my wand I brought down the defenses over my floo network, and with a quick non verbal accio threw a handful of powder into the fireplace. I raised my wand at him. If he didn't get in, so help me I would force him. A few words of my speech must have sunken in, because he made his way into the fireplace.

"This isn't over!" Mr. Gaunt bellowed, "Let's just see what the Minister 'as to say about this! Ministry of Magic." And in a flash he was gone.

Just then Mr. Winston re-entered the room, rolling up his parchment.

"Where did Mr. Gaunt go?" He asked, realizing he was no longer present.

"To issue a formal complaint with the Minister I believe. He used my floo network." I nodded to the fireplace.

"Oh, I see. Well, if you might allow me to trespass on your kindness to use it as well, I will be out of your way."

"By all means." He walked over to the fireplace as I handed him the bag containing floo powder.

"This has been an _enlightening_ visit." Mr. Winston replied. "I'll just hand deliver this then," He motioned to the scroll, "One of our Department of Magical Mysteries Inquirers, will likely be in touch with you in the coming weeks." I nodded. "It was nice to finally make your acquaintance young Lord Malfoy. Your family's legacy far precedes you, I'm sure you know. I do apologize for any confusion." Turning to Hermione he looked down his nose at her, "Miss Granger, should the Venia be completed in your life time, you are to report at once back to the Ministry, do you understand?" Hermione swallowed hard, and nodded her head slowly. "Very well, good day to you both." And in puff of silver powder he was gone.

I looked over to Hermione who had slumped into a chair. She looked exhausted as she put her head in her hands. I was just about to ask her if she was alright when her eyes snapped to mine. They were full of anger,

"So shall I refer to you as Master now?" her tone was pure ice.

"Excuse me!" I was shocked. Where was this coming from?

"How could you have spoken it aloud in front of witnesses!" She seethed, "I don't want to belong to you!"

"Well if you'd rather be indentured to that disgusting fellow, arrangements could be made!" I spat back.

"I could have figured out how to get away from him! But you, I'll never be able to get away from you! Not now! How am I supposed to repay a favor to you! You already have anything and everything you could possibly need. You don't need gold, or servants, or protection, or anything I could possibly offer. I'm trapped here for life! Slavery is still slavery!" She hissed.

"You little ungrateful brat! That's the second time I've saved you! Are you seriously telling me you'd rather be cruelly mistreated and live in a filthy pig barn than here?"

In the middle of feeling insulted, it hit me. She would have to live here now. Possibly for the rest of her life. For my life. In my house. With me. Here.

And she was absolutely awful.

"The least you could do is give me back my wand now." She said tartly. That was the last straw. I wanted to slap her. I wanted to pick her up and shake her until she saw sense! I wanted to wrap my hands around…

My anger died mid-thought as my eyes fell upon the purple and red finger marks that had formed across her delicate neck. Another was forming on her arm from her fall on the floor.

I exhaled slowly. Pulling out my wand I summoned a jar of pain relief balm. Opening it, I sat down on the edge of coffee table in front of her. I reached for her arm, but she snatched it away, eyeing me skeptically. Anger flashed behind my eyes. "What is that," she asked, her voice suddenly small.

"It's for the pain." I replied through clenched teeth. She seemed to relax slightly,

"Oh." For only a second she looked slightly guilty. Putting her hand back down in her lap she asked, "Will it sting?" She sounded like a child, and my anger dissipated again as she looked up at me through her eyelashes.

"No, it's the same stuff Tilly gave you last night." I held out my hand to her. She eyed it cautiously before slowly placing her hand in mine. I looked down at it in my own. It was small with a delicate wrist. Her pink nails were clean and neatly kept, and her soft skin felt like silk against my own calloused palm. With my other hand I scooped out some of the balm and started applying it gently to her blackened elbow. She winced slightly as I rubbed it in. I focused on her arm, but could feel her gaze shift to me. I could tell that she was starring at me, and all of a sudden I wondered what she was thinking. Growing uneasy under her gaze, I returned her stare. Her eyes dropped to her lap at once. Suddenly the moment grew very intimate. I swallowed hard, as I set her arm back in her lap. Taking more balm, I gently tipped her chin up. Her eyes widened, but she lifted it higher, exposing her graceful neck to me. I noticed that her lips were slightly parted and for some reason this sent a thrill through me. I tried to ignore it, along with the warm spreading heat in my stomach. I gently massaged the balm into the nasty marks along her neck. I could see her pulse in her neck, it was racing wildly, but she was trying to strictly control her breathing. My eyes dropped down to the rise and fall of her chest. I was instantly transfixed by the beautiful curves of her breasts. My face flooded with heat. Afraid she would catch me ogling her, I dropped my hands and looked away.

"Thank you." She replied softly. Afraid my voice would crack, I just made a simple nod. "Um…" She started, rubbing her neck, "Thank you…for… stopping him." She seemed to be choking over her pride. All of a sudden tears sprang to her eyes, she got up suddenly. "Excuse me." She fled the room, leaving me alone with a multitude of thoughts crashing in around me.

(To be cont.)


	4. Chapter 4

-So I loved the comment about wanting Hermione to be less of a bitch in this next chapter. ;- ) It's funny because I was thinking that myself during one of my re-reads. She is pretty bitchy! I wrote her that way, so I don't know why I was surprised. I'm afraid for this chapter she will have a few more mood swings. But take heart, that is all about to change! This chapter ended up longer than the others, but there were a few things I have to set up for the rest of the story. Hope you enjoy! I'm really having fun with this, thanks for your encouragement and for reading!

Chapter Four:

I didn't go looking for Hermione. She couldn't leave the property without me taking down the wards, so I wasn't too concerned. I'm sure she needed some time to be alone and contemplate her new eternity spent with yours truly.

She could do worse.

I walked into my study across the hall, and then through the hidden door to the secret room behind it. Every family mansion has a decoy office. Malfoy's have always been riddled with paranoia. I suppose paranoia isn't the right word though. It implies a level of unreasonable suspicion. Our watchful and untrusting ways are justified. Our list of enemies is forever extending.

Made a new one today, wouldn't pop be proud.

I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on that situation now as well, as if I don't have enough to do already. One wise lesson my father taught me in managing the incredible work load of a Lord Malfoy was to hire extremely likeminded, capable, workaholic men to delegate your workload to. The only other requirement of course was to pick ones whose closets are heaving with skeletons. Everyone will turn on you eventually, but with the proper leverage you can almost always guarantee a person's compliance.

Know everything about everyone, and stay away from those who have nothing to lose. Volatility with out consequence is the most toxic combination.

Unwilling to let the multitude of thoughts crash in on me again, I threw myself into my work. Return correspondence, pay bills, balance the books and on and on. The tedious hours passed, and I still hadn't had a chance to look over the quarterly numbers for the Trade Coalition. Blegh. The ministry needed a full report by the end of next week.

As my mini empire grew, I continued to be stretched thinner and thinner. I hardly had time for my research anymore. Perhaps I could stand to hire another person. Though the time it would take to find just the right person would nearly negate their purpose.

I set my quill down sighing. It was almost time for dinner. Just then a thought struck me. Hermione could read. She had been in the library this morning reading a book. Unless of course she was pretending? Unlikely.

How odd for a lowborn female, much less a muggleborn. Perhaps her parents had been well off in the muggle world and had had their daughter educated prior to her capture. That could be the only logical reason.

I rose from my desk and left for the kitchens. When my parents were alive we always ate in the formal dinning room. But once they died I hated eating alone, so I made the houselves set up a table in the kitchens so I could talk to them while I ate. It had been the pattern for three years now.

I suppose with Hermione here, I should eat in the dinning room once again. That is of course, very presumptuous of me. She may not wish to dine with me after all. I walked down the steps into the kitchen to see Tilly animatedly telling a story to a smiling Hermione who was sitting on top of the counter eating a cookie. Both stopped at my entrance.

"Master Draco," Tilly greeted, unsure if she was in trouble. Hermione must have felt similarly, because she got down from the counter at once, and placed the half eaten cookie back on the plate.

"Don't stop on my account," I waved my hand at them, as I made towards the back and walked down into the wine cellar.

I heard Tilly's voice pick up again,

"So then Master Lucious asked Tilly to bake the ruby necklace into the soufflé, and Tilly was so shocked at such a request, but did just as told. And when Master Lucious requested that I give the soufflé to Mistress Narcissa, Tilly began banging my head against a copper pot for certainly he meant to kill her!"

Tilly's voice died away as I reached the bottom of the stair. I went to the back and pulled out a vintage house wine made by my grandfather's elves. As I reached ear shot again, I heard Hermione let out a sweet giggle at Tilly's antics.

"And low, it was all just meant as a surprise for Mistress Narcissa, and there was no real threat that she would swallow the necklace. Master Lucious gave Tilly a genuine wizard galleon for my help! Can you believe it! Wizard Gold, to Tilly!"

"That's wonderful Tilly," as I reached the top of the stairs, I saw Hermione's wide smile, "What did you spend it on?"

"Spend it? What does Mistress Hermione mean? It is Tilly's most prized possession, why would I spend it?" Tilly looked thoroughly perplexed. "Do you want to see it!" The little elf exclaimed excitedly. Before Hermione could respond Tilly had jumped down from the counter and ran to her 'bedroom,' a cabinet by the fire place, and was rummaging through it. She returned moments later holding up a shinny gold galleon.

"It's lovely, Tilly." Hermione smiled, "Very shiny."

"Oh yes! Tilly polishes it everyday!" The little elf was glowing, "Master Draco gives me new goblin polish every Christmas just to use on my galleon!" She smiled up adoringly at her master. I patted her on the head.

Just then Payley emerged from his cabinet with a big yawn, dragging a beat up old teddy bear along the ground behind him. He walked over to the oven and opened it. "Roast is ready," His little voice was groggy.

"Are you feeling alright Payley?" I asked.

"Oh yes Master," He nodded vehemently.

"It's all Tilly's fault!" Tilly cried, latching herself around my shin, "I kept him up all night working on dresses for Mistress Hermione."

"Dresses? You made more than one?" I really shouldn't be surprised.

"I made seven!" She squeaked. I laughed.

"Tilly, that was very kind of you," My approving tone made her weepy. Her giant blue orbs became glassy and I sensed a full on gratitude meltdown coming, "Is dinner ready?" Suddenly she unlatched herself as she zoomed about the kitchen. Meltdown adverted.

"That's a cute teddy Payley." Hermione's tone was so warm, once again I was unsure it was from her. A wide range of moods on that one.

Payley, excited to have been addressed by the pretty house guest, held it up with both hands for her to see better.

"Master Draco gave it to me when he was a very little boy." Payley squeaked. I grimaced. I hated this story for one main reason.

"Oh, really?" Hermione dropped to her knees in front of the house elf, her tone encouraging, as if speaking to a child.

"Oh yes! Master Lucious had grown very angry with Payley one day, because Payley had been very bad and messed everything up!" Even now, after all of these years, Payley's tone was laden with remorse, "And Master Lucious had been so upset that he punished Payley." The house elf always left out the part where I watched my father kick Payley across the room, and banish him to the kitchens. For whatever reason, that memory had always stayed with me. Even now, as I replay it in my mind it still feels like a slap across the face, and makes me angry. "So Payley was sitting in his cupboard sobbing, and young Master Draco came to see me. He was only three years old then, and he saw that Payley was in pain, and he reached out and touched my head, and you'll never believe it Mistress Hermione! All of Payley's pain disappeared! It was young Master Draco's first display of magic!"

Hermione looked up at me then, making eye contact with me for the first time since I entered the room. Her expression was thoughtful and soft.

"Then Master Draco gave Payley his teddy bear, and told Payley not to cry." At this her eyes dropped back down to the little elf, a look of wonder on her face, as she smiled down at him. "That night, Mistress Narcissa came to take the bear, and Master Draco told her not to and cried so hard and started throwing things and yelling. Master Lucious came in to the kitchens because of all the noise and ordered Master Draco to take back his bear. Master Draco yelled no, and when Master Lucious went to take the bear, all of the pots and pans along the wall began to rattle and fall and Master Draco yelled no. Suddenly Master Lucious and Mistress Narcissia started crying and laughing and hugging Master Draco. They were soooooo happy that he had exhibited magic that they forgot all about the bear! And Master Lucious forgot he was mad at Payley, and they gave Payley and Tilly champagne as they celebrated. They thought this was his first display of magic, but it was actually his second!" The end of Payley's story came out rushed in his excitement.

"Three years old is very young to exhibit magic for the first time, isn't it?" She asked, her eyes alight with curiosity. I just shrugged, making my way over to the table where Tilly had set out tableware, and was dishing out the dinner they had prepared. Two little chipped tea saucers set at the table too, and Hermione quirked an eyebrow at them. Tilly noticed her gaze and looked up at me,

"Should Tilly and Payley eat later Master?" I looked down at her as I pulled the chair out for Hermione,

"Of course not, but as we have a guest with us this evening, I would like you to use silverware."

Suddenly Payley popped up with two tiny spoons and a wide grin. Hermione eyed me skeptically, but walked over and took the offered seat.

"It smells delicious." She complimented the elves, placing her napkin in her lap.

I walked over to the counter and uncorked the wine with my wand, "Would you like a glass Hermione?" I gestured to the bottle.

"Um… I've never had wine before." I began pouring her a glass.

"Try it." I smirked, setting the glass next to her water goblet and taking my own seat across from her. The two elves pulled themselves up onto the table and sat cross legged in front of their plates waiting patiently for me to take the first bite. The moment I began to eat, the two house elves started shoveling food into their mouths as if they hadn't eaten for days. They fisted the tiny spoons in a crude fashion, but it was better than letting them eat with their hands like usual.

Hermione picked up the wine chalice and smelled the liquid. I watched her as I took a sip of my own. She lifted the glass to her full pink lips and took a small sip. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the sickeningly adorable way her nose scrunched up at the taste. She set it back down.

"It's an acquired taste."

"If you say so." Her tone was light, a sheepish smile ghosted her face. I got up from the table and picked up a stein. Walking over to a barrel on the counter, I uncorked it. A golden liquid sloshed into the stein.

I set it down in front of her. "This, you'll like." I smiled.

She grasped the large stein with both hands and took a sip. Her eyes lit up, and she took another long sip. "It's wonderful… what is it?"

"Butterbeer." Her response was an eager nod as she continued to drink. Draining the glass, she set it down. A small amount of foam rested at the corner of her mouth, and without thinking, I reached across the small table and wiped it away with my thumb. Her eyes locked with mine, and my thumb paused, lingering at her jaw. The air was instantly thick with tension as I gazed into her honey eyes. She made no move to slap away my hand and I could tell she had stopped breathing as she went rigidly still. Perhaps it was just in my nature to push the envelope, but I allowed the back of my knuckles to drag down across her throat as I pulled my hand away. It was so warm and soft. A bright blush instantly colored her cheeks, and her gaze dropped to her lap. I looked down to see Payley looking back and forth between us, his spoon full of food paused in mid air. Tilly, who still had food on her plate, picked it up at once,

"All done!" She squeaked, standing up with her plate. She reached over and grabbed Payley's as well. His eyes went wide with surprise. "Payley's done too." The little elf made a grab for his plate but Tilly was too quick. "Come on Payley, work to be done." Tilly jumped down and exited the kitchen without taking the plates to the sink. Payley sat dumbfounded for only a moment before he scurried right after her out the door. They would likely finish their meal utensil free in the broom closet. And just like that, Hermione and I were alone together with the tension in the air strung so tight you could snap it. She was looking everywhere but right at me, so I took the opportunity to shamelessly stare at her again.

Her cheeks were flushed, her lips a bright red, no doubt colored by her blush as well, and the bruise along her neck was barely visible. In the candlelit room her skin seemed to glow. Despite her personality there was no denying that she was incredibly physically attractive. Thin with graceful curves, and such bright eyes.

Part of me wondered if my high estimation of her was a product of my reclusive nature. That perhaps she was only moderately attractive, but with lack of anything to compare her to, she seemed more alluring. This thought I dismissed at once. There was something else beyond her physical features that pulled me in, something more intrinsic. The self assured way that was displayed in her demeanor was not something that could be taught. Either you already had it, or you never would. It was nothing short of an established sanguine.

A sudden thought struck me: if she and I had met under completely different circumstances would her demeanor towards me be different? She was nothing but gentle to my house elves. Perhaps her nasty attitude towards me was linked solely to her sense of self preservation and this dire situation she found herself in. That was certainly not something I could condemn her for. Every single one of my own motives was ruled similarly. I cleared my throat,

"Hermione," Her eyes slowly rose to meet mine, "Seeing as how you will be staying with me for the foreseeable future," I pretended not to notice the frown that darkened her brow, "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable here?"

"You already know the answer to that." She said in a small voice with just a hint of discontent. Of course. Her wand. I walked right into that one.

I don't know what it really mattered if I gave it back to her. Muggleborns were given restricted wands anyway. Their wands could not perform harmful magic. Mainly they were only good for cleaning and general convenience spells. Even still, something within me didn't want to just hand it over. Call it a weird sense of pride or something similar, I just didn't want to give it back to her yet. I nodded slowly.

"I'll tell you what. Let me get to know you a little better, and if the week goes by without any sort of incident, I promise I will give it to you Sunday morning." She thought this over for a moment, and then acquiesced with a small nod.

"What do you want to know about me?" She asked, a small amount of trepidation in her voice.

"I noticed that you know how to read, tell me about your education." It seemed a safe place to start.

"Uh… well," her eyes went up as she recalled, "My father was an oral surgeon in the muggle world. Sort of like a healer that specializes in ailments of the mouth. Anyway, most families in our class have their children educated in the areas of reading, writing, arithmetic ,and usually a foreign language. Young women's education is more based around learning_ accomplishments_ than any real academia. My mother pushed the piano on me, though I was only ever mildly adequate at it. She also taught me needle-work, etiquette, and the proper way to organize a household. " She paused taking a bite of food. My eyes became transfixed at her lips as she gently pulled her fork away. "My father, who never had a son, was desperate to discuss elevated matters, so he taught me philosophy, geography, latin, and history. He had a sizable library for a man of his station, and I was able to read a lot of different books growing up. It was nothing compared to your own library of course."

"You were captured at eleven?" The ministry would prefer me to use the more politically correct term of 'obtained'. She nodded.

"That is quite a bit of education packed into such a short time frame. I hope you don't consider it rude that I'm surprised you retained as much as you have."

"Well, despite the sad situation of finding out that I was a muggleborn, after leaving the training school, I was put into service with a very kind wizard. He discovered that I enjoyed reading, and allowed me access to his own library when I was finished with my work."

"That's very generous. He could have gotten in a lot of trouble had anyone found out… though I suppose it hardly matters now." I took another sip of my nearly empty glass, draining it. I reached over and took the full glass of wine in front of Hermione. Waste not. "You are welcome to my library as well any time you would like, though please don't meddle with the locked case." Her eyes lit up.

"Of course not, thank you."

"In fact if you'd like to take any back to your room feel free, just keep track of it in the log." For this I earned a genuine smile of gratitude. It was stunning. We went back to eating, the silence in the room comfortable. Suddenly she looked up,

"Since my stay here has become more… permanent, would you prefer me to move into the servants' quarters?" She asked.

"No."

"Oh… I just thought…"

"You're not my servant."

"Then what am I?" Her eyes burned into mine, and for some reason I felt like her question was some kind of a test. It was an excellent question. I thought for a moment.

"A guest under house arrest?" I smiled. I reached for her mug and refilled it at the counter.

"Well, what am I to do with my time while here?" She asked. I turned to look at her and shrugged.

"I don't really care as long as you don't bother me while I'm working."

She made a simple nod as I set the new glass of butter beer in front of her.

"What do you like to do?" I asked. It seemed appropriate. Polite even.

"Well…" Her brow furrowed in as she thought, "I like to read and research I suppose. I prefer organization, and order." She took a long sip, "and… oh I could organize your library if you like? I noticed that at one time there must have been some sort of order to it, but most of the books are out of place now." The corner of my mouth upturned into a smile.

"Yes… the house elves never really do bother much with putting them in order, as long as it appears tidy."

"Would you mind if I put them back in order?" She attempted to ask it casually as she took another long drink, but I could sense the underlying exigency in her voice. It was obvious that she hated that they were out of place. How peculiar. My mother had been the same way. Little things like that drove her insane.

""You want to organize my library?" I asked.

"Yes." 

"And you would enjoy that?"

"Yes."

"Fine." I replied. Her brown eyes stirred with excitement, and I could tell it took everything with in her to suppress the rising smile. It finally broke through, and in two more large gulps she had drained the second glass. Her cheeks took on a pink hue and it occurred to me that I probably shouldn't have let her drink them both so quickly.

She pushed back from the table and picked up her plate, standing she reached for mine across the table. Had I not been preoccupied by looking down her dress as she bent over, I might have noticed her unsteady sway. The dishes dropped from her hands onto the table as she grabbed the edges of it trying to steady herself. I stood at once placing a hand under her elbow to stabilize her.

"Oh my." She exclaimed, "I'm so sorry…I… I don't know why I feel so dizzy."

"It's probably just the butterbeer. It can sneak up on you, especially if you're not accustomed to it. Let's get you upstairs, you'll feel better after lay down." She nodded, standing upright. Leaning in to my shoulder she allowed me to guide her towards the hallway. By the time we reached the front entry way almost all of her weight was leaning on me, and she had rested her head on my shoulder. I wondered if I would need to carry her up the stairs. She had only had two glasses! But she was rather petite I suppose. Perhaps it just affected her more?

"Stop." She asked quietly. I did. Moving my arm from her elbow, I wrapped it around her waist to better support her. "I'm so dizzy." Oh Merlin, was she going to vomit on me!

"Do you feel sick?" I asked. Her arm that had been sandwiched between us when I held her elbow suddenly grabbed the lapel of my waistcoat as her other hand slid across my chest to rest on my shoulder. As she turned in to me, her face nestled in to my neck.

"No, I just feel soo…cloudy." She sighed, and I felt her warm breath ghost across my collar bone. She was leaning on me almost fully, and I held her body against mine for added support.

All at once I was overwhelmed by the sensation. Her warm soft body pressed into me, her hands clutching at me, her lips so close to my neck. I stopped breathing, stopped thinking. I just stood there grasping her in my arms, silently burning.

"Draco?" She lifted her head to look into my eyes, her lips inches from mine. Her gaze burned through me, and for a moment the intense desire was reflected in her eyes as well. She slid her hands down my body, pressing her chest into me. My heart could have stopped as I melted under her honey gaze. The all consuming desire to close the gap and press my lips to hers was unbearable.

Suddenly I watched her dark eyes pass from need to clarity, to a distinct look of regret. Looking into my eyes she whispered,

"I'm so sorry… Impedimenta." And all at once I found myself thrown back onto the floor from the force of her jinx.

I turned to look at her retreating form, her wand in hand.

And instantly it hit me. She had been faking it. She had been faking all of that. At some point during my lust filled stupor she had pulled her wand from my pocket.

My instincts kicked in and as her hand reached the front door I pulled out my own wand and bellowed, "Expelliarmus." Her wand was ripped from her grasp and flew through the air towards me. I caught it easily and pointed both wands at her. She turned to face me, her eyes wide and filled with fear and guilt.

"You little…" my insult died on my lips in my complete disbelief. Though I had only known her for a day her betrayal stung as if I'd known her for years. Instantly a thought crashed through my complete state of shock.

A spell that throws their opponent back?

She just preformed an _impedimenta_ with this wand. THIS wand! HER wand!

How the hell did she get a hold of a fully functional wand!

I tried a few restricted spells against the wall, _Reducto, Stupefy, Incendio_.

They all worked.

"This wand has no restrictions or bans on it whatsoever! Where did you get this! Tell me!"

"I didn't steal it if that's what you think!" She snidely replied backing away from me towards the stairs as I advanced..

"Then tell me where you got it!" I barked grabbing her arm to stop her from retreating.

"That's none of your business!" Her voice was venom. Gone was the doe eyed, simpering girl from a moment before. Damn it. I felt like such a fool.

"A muggleborn with an unrestricted wand in my home? That is my business!" I tightened my grip on her arm, making her yelp. My voice was just as icy, "I'm not going to ask you again Hermione, where…did…you …get this?"

"It was a gift!" She angrily spat, her eyes starting to water perhaps from pain, perhaps from desperation.

"From who!" I yelled, my face inches from hers. "From WHO Hermione!" She started shaking her head.

Suddenly she jerked her arm away, and turned to run. I grabbed the bustle of her gown roughly, and she hit the floor, the wind being knocked out of her with an oomph noise. I fell to my knees and forced her over on to her back as she struggled against me. Only after pinning both of her hands next her head did she stop struggling. "Tell me!" I yelled. One tear finally leaked from the corner of her eye. I could tell she detested it. She didn't want to appear weak in front of me. A quality I would find commendable in any one else. Finally she gave in,

"From my former master." She sucked in her breath, "He gave it to me and taught me spells muggleborns are not allowed to know."

"Why would he do that! Was he encouraging you to turn on him?" I scowled in my anger.

"I would NEVER turn on him!" Her eyes grew dark and angry in her deep conviction. "I would DIE for him!"

I released her hands at once, and sat back on my feet completely shocked.

I had only made that same statement once before in my life, about _one_ man.

Suddenly my world started crashing in around me.

That Old Son of a Bitch!

"He orchestrated all of this!" I whispered aloud in disbelief. Hermione sat up on her elbows eyeing me suspiciously. "He's behind it all…"

"Behind what? Who?" Hermione asked, her tears forgotten as her insatiable curiosity was peaked.

"This former master of yours, he helped you to escape from Gaunt didn't he?" Her eyes went wide and then suddenly guilty, she made a small nod. I started shaking my head in complete amazement. "He's the one who told you to travel this way?"

"Well," Hermione thought for a moment, "Yes, I suppose he did." She paused and then looked at me with sharp determined eyes, "I won't have him getting into trouble on my account. I'll never tell you his name." Her voice was calm and unyielding.

"I already know his name." I spat down at her. Her eyes grew wide with surprise.

"Orchestrated this whole _damn_ thing!" I repeated incredulously to no one. I got up, suddenly furious. "I swear, this is the last time I let him interfere with my affairs!" I was growing more and more livid. He had sent her here… for some idiotic purpose that was completely his own, he had sent her here!

Hermione could sense my rage, and started scooting away from me.

"Tilly!" I barked. With a pop she stood before me. "Open the floo network and arrange an immediate meeting for me. Immediate!" I started walking towards my room to grab my cloak, and place her wand inside my personal safe. Tricksie she-devil.

"With who, Master?" Tilly squeaked. I stopped halfway down the hallway and turned to face them. Holding Hermione's confused gaze, I replied coldly,

"Albus Dumbledore."

Her eyes grew large with fear, and I knew I was right. The shock in her eyes made the truth all the more glaring.

(To be cont.)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

"He meant for this to happen? That's not possible!" Hermione screamed from the top of the stairs. I whirled around as I threw on my cloak and yelled right back,

"It is the only thing that is possible! It's the only explanation."

"You can't be suggesting that he planned to have me debted to you." She descended the stair quickly, still following me.

"Not such a saint now, is he?" I spat.

"But why! Why would he want that?" She was right behind me now, following me over to the fireplace. I turned on her,

"You tell me! You're his little pet."

"I am _not_ a pet." She hissed, enunciating each word sharply.

"Tilly!" I barked. With a pop the little elf stood before me. Her eyes were wide and fearful. She had bad news.

"I am sorry master, but I just spoke with Bramble." Hermione glanced down at the elf recognizing the name of Dumbledore's head house elf. "He said that Master Dumbledore is abroad and not expected back until the end of the week. Bramble has sent urgent word to him that he is needed."

"How convenient." My voice was calm but bitter. I sucked in a long slow breath trying to calm my frazzled nerves. Damn damn damn.

Suddenly there was another 'pop' and Payley stood in front of me with equally fearful eyes. What now!

"Master, there is a bit of a situation at the gate." I went to the window. Coming up the road was a mob of villagers with torches burning. My eyes widened. At once Hermione was at my side, peering down to the gate as well. She gasped as she took in the sight.

They had nearly reached the gate, and I watched as Brutie and Milo emerged from the carriage house, pulling up their suspenders. They were clearly unsure of what to do. At the head of the pack of villagers was Overlord Thigpen walking next to…

Hermione gasped again as she recognized the man. And my blood began to boil as I recognized him too.

Gaunt.

"What do we do!" Hermione breathed, looking up at me, the anger from a moment before forgotten. With a sideways glance I could tell that she was scared. If I wasn't still so angry with her, I might have felt discomfort at seeing her fear plain on her face.

"Nothing." I replied simply. "They can't get past the gate." Surely Gaunt realized this. What was he playing at? Bringing them all up here, no doubt to make sure the 'witch' was dead. I had to give him a little credit. It was rather clever to go snooping about the village. Thigpen would have been all to eager to recount the story of the captured witch.

"So what is he trying to do?" She asked. It was an excellent question. What was he trying to do? It would take an army of wizards attacking to weaken my wards on the estate. Was he trying to draw me out? Make me come speak to him? Perhaps he was hoping to upset the statute of secrecy? Fool. That would only come back on him.

I did have a fail-safe if such a situation should arise. I had hoped I would never have to use it. It was nice being able to run down to the village if I needed anything. I let out a long frustrated sigh and rubbed my temple. What a fucking night!

I left Hermione gaping at the window, and went to pour myself a drink. With my tumbler full, I walked over to the fire and loosened my cloak, letting it fall to the floor. I watched the glowing embers for a bit, becoming increasingly angry at this clusterfuck of a situation. I needed time to think, and the roar of the crowd and Hermione's intermittent gasps were not helping my concentration.

"I'll be in my room." I announced as I walked towards the stair.

"But… aren't you going to do anything?" Without looking back I answered her,

"No."

Once in my bedroom I could barely hear the noise of the mob. I walked in to my massive bathroom, with a flick of my wand the marble pool began to fill with steaming water. I pulled off my tie, and dipped my hand into the filling water to test the temperature. Perfect. After setting my tumbler on the side of the massive pool I began to unbutton my waistcoat, and then my shirt. The tub was nearly full, when I heard a rapping at my bedroom door.

"Draco?" I could hear Hermione call from outside. I cursed under my breath. Couldn't she leave me alone for an hour. I had half a mind not to answer. After what she did tonight she could stand out there and wait. I was just about to cast a silencing charm so I couldn't hear anything beyond my room, when there was a soft thump at the door followed by an even softer, "Draco Please?" Her tone sounded sincere, and all at once I found myself walking towards the door. I stopped just before opening it. How could I ever really be sure of her? She might sound sincere, but perhaps this was just a ploy to get into my room. Another attempt to rescue her wand. I rested my head against the door. What if she tried that act again. My body burned at the memory of her pressed against me. It had been far too long since I had had the company of a lovely woman. I never realized how weak I was before. How needy. It was so easy for her to manipulate me. Even as I grew angry at this thought, an eager voice at the back of my mind was hopeful she would try it again. It whispered to me to open the door. This voice didn't care if her actions were a charade… it just begged to be near her again. I had a sudden sinking feeling as I realized how much I wanted her. She was completely awful and insufferable but I wouldn't hesitate to bed her if she offered. What was this horrible and strange power she held over me? Surely she was a succubus sent to torment me.

I didn't dare open the door. "What do you want?"

"Will you open the door?" Her tone was soft and placating. Tricksie Vixen. It was nearly impossible to say no to her when she spoke like that.

"No."

I said _nearly_ impossible.

"Please?" Sweet Merlin! _Damn her_, I cursed as I opened the door a crack. I looked down to see two beautiful brown eyes starring up at me, filled with unmistakable remorse. She swallowed, "I just wanted to apologize for… for earlier." She looked down at the floor.

"Are you referring to the part where you used your body to get what you wanted?" Her eyes snapped up to mine at my bitter tone, "You know there is a common word for women like that." It was a cruel thing to say, but at that moment I wanted to hurt her. Though I only felt worse when I saw that I had succeeded. It was as though I had physically slapped her. After a weighty pause she finally whispered,

"I deserve that."

No…she didn't. Not really. She sucked in a long breath, "Did I hurt you?" Now there was a loaded question. I assumed she was referring to hexing me.

"I'm fine." My tone was clipped.

"I shouldn't have tried to trick you." I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. "It won't happen again." I doubted that. "I give you my word."

"And what is that worth now, Hermione?" I sighed. I started to close the door. All I wanted was to slip under the water and drink my scotch. She pushed against it with her small fists,

"Wait!" She cried.

"What!" It came out terser than I meant. She pushed the door open wide, and I let her. She made a small gasp as she noticed my shirt was undone. Her cheeks turned pink as I watched her eyes sweep over my chest and stomach. Suddenly she realized what she was doing, and her eyes snapped up to mine. Her cheeks went crimson as her blush deepened. I smirked down at her, "Looking for your wand?"

"No," She squeaked. Her cheeks continued to blaze. Suddenly she was looking everywhere but at me. She took in a deep breath. "I.. I didn't mean for that moment to… to become… so," She looked up as she searched for the right word, "charged." It came out breathless, and once again the tension in the room became taught. "I only meant to lean on you to pick pocket my wand back."

"That's such a lie."

"It's not."

"You knew exactly what you were doing!" She shook her head causing her curls to bounce about her head and opened her mouth to speak but I cut her off, "leaning your whole weight on me so I'd have to wrap my arms around you, nuzzling your face into my neck, pressing your body against me. You _knew_!"

"I didn't!" She protested. In my anger I stepped closer to her, but instead of shrinking back she held her ground.

"You played me for a fool. You knew your wand was in my pocket. Why didn't you just take it, why did you have to run your hands down my body! You were trying to distract me in _that_ way and you know it!"

"I didn't mean to… I just… I got caught up in the moment," What the hell did that mean? "I forgot what I was doing." Her words came out rushed, and she shook her head as if trying to understand.

"You can't expect me to believe a word of that!" I was getting worked up. It helped nothing that her words gave me pause to hope. To hope that the interchange was not as one sided as I had presumed. But as soon as the hopeful thought emerged so did its wayward companion, Doubt. It gripped my heart in such a way, that I lashed out at her in the form of cruel words,

"Did it give you a thrill to know that I could be so easily side tracked by you? Is your vanity thoroughly satiated?" Her eyebrows rose, as her eyes grew dark.

"Do not speak to me like that. As though I'm some sort of coquette!"

"Aren't You?" I saw the determination in her eyes and predicted her move. As her hand rose to slap me, I caught it easily, the force of my grasp pulling her forward. She gasped, startled as she crashed into me.

We both held our breaths as we starred into each other's eyes with such fierce intensity. After the longest of moments she finally broke the silence between us.

"I see that my actions have served to bruise your ego greatly. Though your offense is quite unnecessary."

"Unnecessary!"

"If you feel a fool, it is of your own making! You get angry with me for my supposed wanton behavior, when it was you starring at me all evening, touching my face, running your hand down my neck…" She trailed off as her words became breathless. She looked away from me then. Another long moment past, in which I suffered the effects of her nearness. I could smell her hair, clearly see her racing pulse at her neck. It matched the pulse I could feel with my fingertips as I still grasped her wrist. Her skin was warm and smooth to my touch. The quick rise and fall of her breasts caught my attention as they moved with each hasty breath she took. When she looked back at me, all the fight was gone from her eyes,

"I… I meant only to take back my wand, but I was easily side tracked by the sensations of the evening. It was not intentional. I am a lowborn. I have never had the luxury of knowing… I mean to say… I've never caused such a response in someone before. Perhaps it did go to my head. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps my vanity was fanned. But I assure you that it is not something I am use to, and I take no pleasure in it, beyond the notion that…if even only for a moment… someone as insignificant as me, somehow managed to arrest your attention."

Now she was flattering my vanity. But I knew by her tone, and her serious expression that she was being sincere. Her vulnerability at her admission caused her to worry her lower lip.

"You maintain that it was not intentional… that you too were caught up in the emotion of the moment?" She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine.

"I thought you were going to kiss me." Her voice was breathless again, and suddenly I was acutely aware of how close we were.

"I was," I whispered. Her eyes locked with mine,

"You were?" She whispered her eyes wide with disbelief. Either she was an excellent actress, or far far too innocent for her own good. "I've… never been kissed before," she announced shyly. Was that an invitation?

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

I meant it as a joke, but when her eyes became dark like before and I noticed she had stopped breathing, the moment become serious. She continued to worry her bottom lip, but made no answer in either the affirmative or negative. I was encouraged by the fact that she didn't automatically blurt out 'no'. She suddenly looked far away deep in thought, as though she was seriously considering my proposal. I let a few moments pass as I too considered if I should just make the decision for her. Finally I choose to test her by reaching out my free hand to grasp her waist and pulling her in even closer. This caused the hand that I was holding to become sandwiched between us. I let go of her wrist and dropped my arm back to my side. I took it as further encouragement that she kept her hand against my chest. When I placed my other arm on her waist, she reached up so that both hands were pressed against my bare chest as if to push me away, but she didn't. She never broke eye contact with me, though I could tell she was nervous. Her chest rose and fell with each short little breath she took. I leaned in slightly, curious if she would try to meet me. Her hands relaxed against my chest, and her eyes fluttered closed, as she raised her chin up to meet me. I had only to close the small gap, and claim her beautiful pink lips. But I had to be sure. I had to know that she actually wanted my touch. Raising my palm, I slid it across her flawless jaw cradling her face. She leaned into my hand, and I bent my head low, and pressed my lips to the spot where her jaw and ear connect, pulling her tight against me. I could feel her heart pounding against mine as my kiss elicited a delicious gasp from her. I moved lower and placed another kiss on her neck just below her jaw, I could feel her pulse beneath my lips and her fingers curled against my skin, as she sucked in air again. A red flush crept from her chest up her neck. Even if she didn't like me, there was no denying that her body did. I ran my nose along her jaw as I moved closer to her mouth. I placed one gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth, and was only mildly surprised when she reached her hands up to my neck and made a small whimper that sent chills down my spine.

"Draco, Please." She breathlessly begged. Molten heat shot through me and travelled down my abdomen, and I crashed my lips upon hers. Sliding my hand dangerously low on her back, I pressed her against me, begging for some kind of friction. My lips moved over hers gently but needy. My hand reached up into her hair, and I pulled out the pearl hair pick tossing it to the floor as her hair cascaded around my hand. Fisting her hair I pressed her tight against me again as I deepened the kiss. Opening my eyes I watched her reaction as I slipped my tongue out and ran it against her bottom lip. Her eyes snapped open at this, and we held each other's gaze for a heated moment. I ran my tongue across her lip again, and heart pounding, eyes burning, she gently opened her mouth. I slid my tongue in, and against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, and I deepened our kiss further. She moved her hands up so that her arms were completely wrapped around my neck tightly, pressing her breasts against my chest. She let out a little moan, causing me to gasp as heat shot through me at the sound of it. I needed to stop, I needed to step away from her, I needed to end the kiss. Or, perhaps I needed to move her towards my bed.

"Eh-hmmm." Someone in the hall cleared their throat, and my blood ran cold. I didn't need to look, I already knew. Hermione ripped her lips from mine and whipped around and gasped. She stepped away from me as though I had leprosy.

"I thought you were out of the country." My tone was grating and I didn't bother to look at him. 

"I thought you needed to speak with me immediately." His air was light, but I knew him well enough to catch the undertone of ire. He was angry. "Hermione, I need to speak with Lord Draco, please retire to your room."

"Yes Sir." She squeaked and slid from the room in haste.

"I see you've gotten to know my Hermione." I balked at his possessive pronoun. I didn't answer. "I must admit that when I decided to send her here for safe keeping, this is NOT what I had in mind." He stepped into the room, the door slamming behind him with a flick of his wand, and throwing up a silencing charm with another flick.

Yes, he was definitely angry. He crossed the room to look out the large window on the opposite wall. It looked out over a pasture surrounded by forest. He held his hands behind his back, and remained quite for a few moments.

"Draco I have always known you to be an honorable young man." His tone was weary, and came out as a disappointed sigh. "And yet, you would use her in the same way as that vile man intends?" My eyes snapped up at this.

"That's not fair. I would _never_ treat her the way he does."

"Wouldn't you?" I knew he didn't mean it as an accusation, but it felt like one.

"She wanted me to kiss her…"

"It doesn't matter Draco. That's what you don't understand. It's incredibly unethical. She is in debt to you which lends your relationship to that of a superior-subordinate … how can you be sure that subconsciously she isn't acting on the belief that to be free she must do what she thinks your want her to? Don't you see! How could you ever be certain of her motives, of her true and complete willingness? With in the parameters of this situation your actions towards her are horribly immoral."

His blue eyes were alight with conviction, but I didn't want to hear any of it.

"The truth of the matter is, if she slept with you Draco, the bond would break. It would be enough. She's a smart girl. I'm sure she realizes this." His words were like a slap across the face. But what was more startling was how insulted I felt for Hermione.

"She wouldn't do that. She's not that kind of girl." Though moments before I had accused her of about as much. But hearing someone else do it offended my esteem of her.

"And you know her so well?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"You obviously have a high regard for her. To go to so much trouble to ensure the well being of a lowborn in your service. I doubt if she were a person of low character that she would be able to garner such regard. If she were that kind of girl… you wouldn't be angry with me right now. And you are. You are very angry, which proves all the more that think most highly of her."

"I never had any children." He suddenly looked quite old, the sparkle in his eye hidden for the moment.

"But I should think that if I ever had a daughter, I would have very much liked to have had one just like Hermione."

And that was the crux of it.

Dumbledore loved her tremendously. He loved her enough to break the law to educate her. Loved her enough to help her escape a marriage and life to Guant. Loved her enough to lie to the Ministry. And he sent her on her way, unbeknownst to her, to the one man on the earth that he could trust with her protection… And I betrayed that trust. I suddenly felt quite awful with myself.

Shame.

A most uninvited emotion. I sighed, and looked him in the eye,

"It won't happen again."

It was such a lie. And worse… we both knew it.

To be cont.


End file.
